Disclaimer: I consider myself a young person too . . . so I will gladly apply this advice to myself as well.

1. Facebook. If you wouldn't say it or do it in front of your Mama, it doesn't belong on Facebook. Chances are, someday, you'll want a job that is prestigious enough to have a base pay that gets you out of your parent's household. Any job like that is likely to check out your Facebook profile. Don't use profanity, display pictures of yourself scantily clad, post videos of yourself a drunken mess, or do anything else your sweetest, most precious relative would be offended by.

2. Work your way up. When you get a job out there in the big bad world, don't expect to start out at the top. You can't/won't/shouldn't be making in pay what everyone else who has been there for ages is making. They started at the bottom. Whether you've got a college diploma in your hand or not, you're new. Go in knowing that all the people who succeed in life work really hard to get there. They don't assume they are entitled to what other people have worked for.

3. Learn to Forgive. People are not perfect. You are not perfect. Relationships that you cherish will require your ability to forgive mistakes and move forward. You don't have to stay around people who are bad for you, but holding a grudge in your heart harms no one but yourself. It hinders your ability to love and forgive and accept other people in the future.

4. If a girl or guy is not good enough to be the mother/father of your future child, you probably shouldn't sleep with them. I think this is self-explanatory.

5. Learn to spell, or use programs with a spell checking feature. If I'm looking at your resume and you don't know the difference between your and you're, or to, too and two, I'm mentally judging your ability to do the job.

6. Laugh at yourself. No one else will provide you with as much entertainment. It improves your coping skills, and makes you more likable.

7. Don't expect more from other people than you are willing to give of yourself.

Sometimes you don't realize the value of a gift you've been given until much later. When I was 9, my Grandmother gave me a Bible. I don't think back then I read it much. It wasn't for a few years that I actually got interested in reading it.
I look at it now, worse for the wear, and I just love it. I thought she had given it to me when I became a Christian at age 13, but I realized this morning that wasn't the case. I was 9. Leave it to Mema to give a 9 year old a study Bible! Out of nowhere I found myself wondering if I had ever written Oliver's name in the front pages where there's a place to record births. I hadn't. The realization that I also hadn't recorded her death in the section for that, made me sad.
I value this Bible more today than I ever have. It's like there are pieces of her in it.
I don't agree with all of her interpretations of its content, but I love that she cared enough to make me think about it.
I remember her own worn Bible, with notes made by us kids tucked in there as bookmarks. And a faded embroidered rose sticker from when she joined First Baptist all those years ago. I love that she's the one who gave me this gift.

I was driving along today and I remembered my Mema's voice. I remembered how sometimes she used to call me Bethy-roo. Not all the time, mind you, it was a special endearment. When she was being particularly silly, or gently scolding me but not in a mad kind of way. "You know better than that, Bethy-roo!" and of course it made me feel chagrined about whatever I had done. What a fun memory to have randomly hit me like that! (I do have an aunt who occasionally still calls me Bethie, too, but they are the only two who get away with it!) It got me thinking about names.

I have to admit a secret. My name isn't actually Beth. It's Mary.  My middle name is Elizabeth, and that's where the Beth comes from. My mother named me Mary Elizabeth and decided immediately to call me Beth. I sort of feel like Mary is someone else. I forget at random times like at the doctor or the first day of college when your first name shows up. I'm looking around, where's this Mary chick? Oh yeah, that's me.

I know a few people who actually call me Elizabeth. You see, my first day of kindergarten was a little traumatic. It was my birthday. I turned 6. I was told not to tell anyone it was my birthday because they would think I was bragging. So all the while I'm keeping my birthday secret, the teacher is going around learning everyone's names. When she came to me and I said I was Beth, she said, "No, you can't go by Beth. You can go by Elizabeth." Seeing my displeasure at the renaming, she reassured me by saying "Don't worry, there once was a queen named Queen Elizabeth!" and from that moment forward until the 3rd grade, I was Elizabeth at school and Beth at home.  Every once in awhile I'll run into someone I knew from early elementary and they'll say, "Hey Elizabeth" and I'll be looking for this Elizabeth chick. Oh yeah, that's me.

I know that this name stuff, it made me certain of one thing. I would name my children the name I intended to call them. There would be none of this going by your middle name business!

For a brief period in Jr High my older sister decided she wanted a sister named Libby. So she started calling me that for awhile. I really hated that. You can't just rename people in the middle of their lives!

Do you go by your first name? A middle name? Someone else's name?

Yesterday I went for a walk. I drove over to near my workplace and walked the sidewalk that I usually walk on my lunch break. (Doesn't the word "walk" sound funny now, like I've maybe used it too many times in a row?)

I wanted to be able to move at a decent pace, but didn't really want to leave everyone and go be alone. So, I asked Alex if he wanted to go. I've asked him before and he's always said no. This time, he said yes. I was both glad, and a little worried. After all, this is the 12 year old who acts like it's hard to lift the garbage bag out of the can to take outside. Also if you ask him to do something around the house he frequently says he's "tired".  (insert motherly eye roll here)

I should have known better. A chance to do a physical activity that was not a chore, piece of cake! It wasn't long before this guy was far ahead of me.

He did a silly little laugh and took off. He didn't run the whole time just enough to keep ahead of his Mom. If he heard me getting close he'd take off again. I didn't have to slow down, in fact, we did the fastest time I've ever done on that sidewalk before. It was funny being behind him and seeing him up ahead. He's still a mix of boy and man. I thought, I don't want to forget this. So I wiggled my phone out of the arm holder and took a couple pictures unbeknownst to him.

I caught up at one point and he asked me, "Hey, when can I get a phone?" to which I replied, "I don't know for sure, but not yet." He was satisfied with that and went on his way.

It was fun. I thought, when I walk this by myself again, I'll remember Alex up ahead of me.

I also should have remembered that youth have boundless energy.  He wasn't even winded.

I'm gonna remember that when the trash is full again.

I enjoy Mother's Day. It's so fun to see the cute things the boys bring home from school. Like, some kind of crystallized flower in a handmade little pot, that now sits on our kitchen windowsill.

Or an oversize bookmark, you know, for all those oversize books I read.

And especially the questionnaires. Those are my favorite. They never get my favorite color right and I love that in this one, Elijah estimated me about 2.5 inches taller than my actual height.

I mean, who wouldn't love that kind of stuff?? Or getting an extra nap, guilt free? No sane woman I know would not care for any of those things.

All that being said, Mother's Day makes me feel a tad bit guilty. I know it's a good thing, because there's lots of people out there who take their moms for granted, and they need that day to remind mom that they love her and appreciate her. They never take the time to tell their Mom that stuff, and that's sad!  However, for my family, I really feel like they're thanking me for something I should be thanking THEM for. I love my kids. No really, not in that way that you love them because you had them and you always love family, I really actually like them too. Sometimes when I tuck them into bed at night I just can't help but say something like, "I'm so thankful God let me be your mom!" They usually look at me kinda funny or they'll say something similar back, which is too cute.

Don't get me wrong, they make me kinda crazy. I mean the noise level here, you just have no idea. (unless your noise level is about the same, which I imagine for many of you, it is!) And the mess. I could seriously explode when I go into the kitchen and see those dad.gum.socks.underneath.the.computer.desk AGAIN. Or the clothes just laying around, or the partially eaten food under the bed that has been in its present location long enough to not be 100% identifiable. I'm not gonna lie, it's not always a picnic around here. There's fighting, the kids among themselves, me with them, them with their dad, me with their dad. There's rarely a time that everyone is actually getting along.

But, then there's the car rides home from school where the 9 year old and the 12 year olds are discussing the finer points of talking to girls, whether is should be done "face to face" or "anonymously". And the whole time I'm thinking, I LOVE that I am getting to hear this conversation, and I wish I could secretly record it to show Steven later. They constantly impress me with their intelligence, their sense of humor (so different from one another and So funny!), their sporadic sweetness. They alternately need their Mama and can handle it on their own.  Sometimes, one of them will give the other one a hug or a kiss when they think no one's looking, and is there anything in the world sweeter than a boy showing affection to his brother?? I haven't seen it if there is.

There's no way in the world I'd trade all the poop jokes, disgusting bathrooms, funny and not funny jokes, handmade cards, years of doing laundry, arguments and all that for a life of leisure and napping and a wallet with actual money in it.

I love my 2 year old with his babyness and cute words and constant dancing.

I love my 5 year old who is the sunshine in all our days and has the happy disposition almost all the time.

I love my 7 year old who is sensitive, and helpful, is maybe from the elves, and just wants to be just.like.his.big.brother.

I love my 9 year old whose intelligence and artistic abilities are also accompanied by an artistic temperament that is sometimes wonderful and alternately out of control.

I love my 12 year old who is growing up, and having big person conversations with us, and watching movies and shows with us that we like, and he gets them and we can talk about it.

So you see, the secret about Mother's day is this. People are saying all these nice things about moms and how we should love and appreciate them and all that, and the whole time, I just can't help but stop and think of how much I love THEM. I wouldn't be a mom if it weren't for THEM. 

But I'm still gonna take that nap if I can get it.

* Your sister left two days ago and you're STILL sad about it.
* Your 13 year old with the cracking voice has been talking about Dr. Who for 15 solid minutes and instead of getting bored you're just thinking about how you'll miss him dearly when he goes across the pond to play that role on T.v. as per his plan.
* You heard the song Everything That Glitters Is Not Gold, by Dan Seals, circa 1985, and sang along. But you skipped a verse because you were choked up.
* Your in a-picky -eating- phase 2 year old cleaned his plate at dinner and you thought, "Phew, he'll live another day!"

Yep. I have to sit this close to the wheel to reach the pedals.

They dressed like what they wanted to be when they grew up. Isaac chose being a Dad. What a sweetheart!
His teacher, Mrs. Debbie loaned us a doll and stroller from the preschool.

Do you ever find yourself wondering when the last time will be that you do something? Certain last times stick with us, the last day of school, the last day of a job you are leaving, or the last day before you get married. However, as we move through life, without even noticing it, we pass through many "last times". You may think of something mundane you did with someone you loved and then lost, and now you wonder, how would I have changed that if I had known it would be the last time to do that thing with that person?

I have thought about this a good bit recently. My mother in law is a very plain spoken woman. I love her. She's hilarious. She says out loud the things you were thinking but would never say, along with some things you would probably never have thought.   She will sometimes declare that this is the LAST TIME she'll ever __________. Most recently, it was with towels. She bought an entire new set of towels for her house, that all matched. We were beneficiaries of this event, because we got some of the older towels from her. I use towels until there's absolutely nothing left of them. I'm sure she had probably noticed that . . . lol Anyway, she said, okay, this is the LAST new set of towels I'm buying before I die! I busted out laughing, of course, and so did she. I said, you know, most people probably don't actually identify the last set of towels they buy. In fact they probably have no idea that they are buying their last set of towels, their death towels. At that point we started busting out laughing again.  Well, at least we both share an inappropriate sense of humor.

I was trying to think of something that I have done that I kNEW would be the last time I did it. Off the top of my head the only thing I can think of was when Oliver was born. He was the 5th C-section and I was getting my tubes tied, so I thought, this is the LAST time I'll be in the hospital having a baby of my own body.

(Unless, I'm one of the 1 in 1,000 women for whom a tubal is not successful. Yes, I've watched too many episodes of "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant")

Have you ever done something and thought, "this is the last time I will ever do this!" and if so, what was it?